Secret Cinderellas
by VioletCurse
Summary: Three very different female best friends struggle to figure out the guys in their life. Emma Taylor, Ava and Phoebe Grey all have complicated relationships. Emma made a deal with Theodore Grey, her best friend, to help her catch Gio. Ava is blackmailed by the next King of England, Etienne, into being his fake fiance. Phoebe needs Everett Taylor's help to win a dance competition.
1. Chapter 1: The Encounter

**Emmalynn Jones**

"Please."

"No." I get of my bed which he currently occupies and switch to my old, gigantic couch.

"Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesse! I know I ask a lot of you all the time but for this, I'm begging you, to have mercy on my poor soul," He gets down on one knee, hands clasped under his pleading face. His baby blues bore into my grass green ones and his copper hair brushes the top of his eyelashes. I make a mental note to tell him he should probably get it cut soon.

Snorting, I push my glasses up my nose and turn sideways on the couch, lying longwise on the beat up, old piece of furniture, "I do too much for you and you're hardly poor, _Gray_. Find some other girl."

"Emma, there is no other girl. Just you," Earnestly, he makes himself comfortable by picking up my feet and depositing them on his lap. I ignore him as usual and jot down important side notes in the margins of my textbook. Flipping away my feelings when he cups my sweatpant clad knee, I remind myself that _he's a friend. He doesn't think of you like that and never will._

"Yeah right. How many girls have you used that line on again?" I shake my head to remove those stirrings and return to my biology textbook.

Arrogantly, he grins crookedly, momentarily forgetting his original quest for my presence, "A few." Back on target now, he gazes up at me with wide, puppy eyes, "Please?"

"No, no you can't use your puppy dog eyes… That is so not fair," I groan in defeat and he pumps his fist, jumping up from the couch.

"Theo, you know I don't fit in with that crowd. I never have, never will. They make me nervous." Even now, I didn't really fit in. Our college, you didn't get in unless you were rich or worked really hard. I of course, had to do the latter. It was private, I was a scholarship kid, and a woman in a school that only allowed men years back. Let's just say I didn't exactly make best friends.

"If you're anxious, I'll protect you. And money doesn't matter to me. " I know he genuinely means that. But it matters to me. Theo has always been outfitted with only the finest clothes and objects that money can buy. Now for instance, he was wearing a loose dress shirt, a blazer, and jeans that looked damn good on his muscled form. His mom probably forced him into that for brunch with the family. He doesn't fit in at my tiny dorm room at all, the serious, girly vibe completely contrasts his casual, windblown masculine look. My roommate, Sasha, bringing the girly and I the serious. A lock of jet black hair swings into my face from my extremely messy bun, making me feel incompetent compared to what girls would call a Greek God in my room. My black glasses slide down my nose again and I take them off in frustration, setting them on the side table nearby.

As kids, I could tell that others were always plain dumbfounded. The question was obvious. What was a girl like me doing with a guy like him? Most thought that I did his homework. I probably would have helped him, that is, if he needed it. I was one of the smartest kids in class but Theo was always super competitive. We worked well together on projects. Despite social constraints, we grew up to be friends because my mom Gail Jones, the maid and mother figure of Mr. Grey, worked for the Greys. She usually brought my twin brother Everett and I along whenever she did housework or babysat the Grey kids. We were surprise children to my father Jason Taylor, also working for they Greys as a security guard, and mother. My half sister, Sophie Jones, used to enthrall Theo even though she is seven years older. She's engaged to a good man now much to his disappointment. The four of us Everett, Phoebe, Theo, and myself, grew to be fast friends forever. Back then, we were all a team. Now sadly, I hadn't seen Phoebe since… the incident. She was with her parents right now but I had heard rumors she'd be returning to the university that I wasn't yet brave enough to ask Theo about.

"You know how hard I worked to get into this school." I fiddle with the bent paper of my notebook.

"It's only one night."

"Look, I said yes. You should go before my roommate comes back." Although, she didn't even stay at the dorm too much since she was with her boyfriend.

"Why?" He picks up an orange from a bowl filled with them. I put them there so that I could grab one if I was hungry and running late. Tossing it up and down athletically between hands, he challengingly studies my reaction, "Scared of what she'll think of you?"

Grabbing the fruit from him, I point to the door, "No. You should be. She's man crazy and I don't have anything against that but she's been looking for a prize to go on her arm."

"Urgh. I'm out, I'll see you at my parents' fundraiser." He picks his jacket off the rack slowly and opens the door a crack.

"Yeah, yeah," I wave him out, slightly disappointed to see him go, "Theo?" I guiltily tap my textbook. I really should be working.

"Hmm?"

"You know, she might not be back for a while. Do you want to stay? For a few minutes of course, nothing more."

He grins in victory. White, perfect teeth on display in a toothy grin, except for the chip in his right incisor, "Only if we can watch a horror movie."

"Really?" I thought he hated those…

"Nah, I'm just messing with you. Anything action is fine." My pocket buzzes and I check it. Sasha.

'_Hay girly Im staying with my bf. you have the apartment all to yourself! dont throw partays without me!'_

_ 'Okay. Good luck with your boyfriend."_

_ 'Thnx!XOXOXOXOXXOXOXOXOXOXXOXOOXOXO'_

I snicker, not unkindly, as I read her messages. Couldn't fault her for being kind and overenthusiastic. I could only foresee the terrible break-up that was bound to happen. Sasha's type was jerks and assholes. I thought that once she saw the pattern herself, she would change her taste. Though, I guess it wasn't that easy sometimes.

"What is it?"

"Apparently Sasha moved in with her boyfriend." I set some popcorn in the microwave while he digs through the stack of movies, "She may have a lot of money but she doesn't treat me like crap or anything since I'm not as wealthy."

"That's good. Hey, it's starting!" Popcorn done, Theo is waiting on the couch impatiently with a blanket spread over himself with the lights turned off. He pats the cushion closest to himself unconsciously. Once I'm in place next to him, he curls an arm around my shoulder with a suspicious yawn.

"Theo…" I warn.

"Sh. It's getting good." Settling into his warm, strong body like Jell-O oozing into cracks, I relax my head on his hard shoulder.

"Jeez, why are you so fit? It's not very comfortable." I grumble in defense at my allowance of comfort even if I did love that he was bigger than me in every way.

"Sh!" He jostles me teasingly.

We watch the whole movie and three more. I close my eyes on the last one as the credits roll, simply enjoying his reassuring presence. A large hand spans my stomach and I giggle tiredly, whispering so I don't disturb the peace, "Cut it out."

He then skims upward to cup my breast through my shirt. I'm wide awake when a flash of heat pinkens my cheeks and pulses through my whole body. Stunned into unmoving stiffness, I rigidly await his next move, whether in anticipation or dread, I didn't know. I think it was a combination of the two. He groans, the deep sound vibrating in his chest, transferring over into me. His long arm around my shoulder brings me into his rock hard chest while his grip on me tightens. I arch into him on instinct when his thumb brushes my hard peak over the bra. The soft, ancient fabric drags across my sensitive chest. Wanting more, I dig my hand under his back in the coach cushions, accidentally stabbing myself with the mechanical pencil I had left here. I snap out of my trance in bewilderment. It felt so good but this was one of my best friends. Embarrassed, I shove him off the couch.

"Theo!"

"Wah?! Wa'z happen'in?" He scrubs his face in exhaustion and the level of mortification I felt could never be matched. He was asleep. The whole time.

"Nothing!"

He cradles his head, "Quiet."

"Sorry, sorry. It was nothing…" I was eternally grateful that he had turned out the lights for the movie so he couldn't see the dark shade of ripe raspberry I was turning.

He didn't want me. He dated models, not slightly overweight, four eyed brainiacs with braces.

"What time is it Short Stuff?" Ah, yes. Let's not forget that, I was almost two foot smaller than his statuesque height. Midge was an endearment that I earned in school for being a 'Midge't. Now I could add midget to my list of 'attractive' factors.

I struggle to keep my heavy breathing under control, "I don't know."

Theo shrugs in the dim light of the lamp I turn on, having no trouble with his breath. Shielding his eyes with a grimace, he checks his phone, the blue glow illuminating his face like an ad for attractive people with phones. To think he was just fondling _me_.

"Emma?" Pleadingly, he unconsciously plays with his five' o'clock shadow.

"Yeah?" I snap out of my reverie, taking note of the dark circles under his eyes. I didn't see those before.

"Can I stay here tonight? I can go if you need to get up tomorrow… And the whole roommate thing…"

I sigh, getting over my awkward sexual tension. I squeeze my head, cleansing the thoughts running through. This was Teddy, from my childhood. Theo was harmlessly spooning, just like he probably did with all the girls. I was the one being horny and weird.

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course you can stay. Tomorrow is Saturday, why would I have to get up for that? As for Sasha, if she finds us here, I'll explain that you're a friend." Just a friend.

"Thanks. I just crashed suddenly and I don't think I've could make it home awake. You still have my spare things?"

"Of course. Don't you have mine?" We had made emergency sleepover kits when we were in fourth grade. I was two years younger but since I was smart, I moved up two grades, effectively turning into an outcast if it wasn't for him, Phoebe, and Everett.

"Do you even have to ask?" Standing, he stretches and I'm gifted with the sight of his pants falling low on his hips, revealing a slight snail trail with those v lines where his hips met his legs standing out in high relief. I wanted to possessively run my tongue over those lines, wanted to taste his tan skin… Oh, what was wrong with me tonight!? Hell, I wasn't in high school anymore so why was I staring at him like a horny fifteen year old? I had never been this boy crazy. This was new. I really needed a cold shower… Right now.

Theo ends up falling asleep on the couch again after coming out of the bathroom. Once I'm cooled off from the ice cold liquid, I make my way to my own bed in the darkness. Bumping into my desk with a loud screech against the hardwood floor, I curse mutely. Pausing, he doesn't stir, so I get into bed and put my dripping hair into another bun.

"Why do you call me Theo? Why not Teddy?" His normally deep voice was rougher from sleep.

"Sorry if I woke you," I twist my fingers through my hair thoughtfully, finding an answer, "I don't know. Everyone calls you Teddy but you've always been Theo to me." Because I wanted something of him that nobody else had, "You were out pretty fast. Long day?"

Our voices are the only noise in the room besides the white noise outside. I always found that sleeping in the same room so confidential. Trust that they wouldn't pull stupid pranks or the added security that you were there if something happened. It all seemed so personal and with anybody besides family or him, I wouldn't be comfortable.

"Yeah. I went hard at mixed martial arts practice today." I revel in the low sound of his rich, smooth voice in the dark, able to focus on one aspect of him. Theo was always so overwhelming, taking control of all my senses with his looks, his smell, his words… It was much better when I could concentrate on his brain rather than his stunning features.

"Why?"

"Because I was thinking of so many people I wanted to beat up." He stated it simply, devoid of anger, as a matter of fact rather than anger.

"Ah." I knew exactly what he was talking about. He didn't have to go into depth on that one unless he wanted to. I was only brutally honest when people asked me for advice or persistently prodding if I didn't know the situation.

Abruptly, he changes the subject just like I thought he would, "Why did you push me off the couch earlier? Nightmare?"

He shifts in bed and I think again how intimate it is to sleep nearby to someone. I blush hot again at the idea of his sweaty muscular body writhing against mine, discarding that as quickly as it came, and mutter, "Yeah."

"About what?"

"Not getting any sleep."

"Funny. Sorry I asked."

"I'm kidding. It was about schoolwork. I was in front of my classmates naked." Damn. I'm still a terrible liar.

"I thought it was about schoolwork."

"Both! I mean, both. Look, we should get some sleep. Tomorrow's a big day."

"Don't remind me."

After his breathing returns to normal, do I finally drift off.

A/N: So this story is about Theodore Gray, the son of Anastasia and Christian Gray. This will switch between Emma's and Phoebe's perspective. I began writing this since my brain randomly came up with an idea when I saw Teddy's name. (I don't question creativity. I'm happy with what I get.) I know that Emma would probably not have braces when she was in college but it's a story. My friend Imani suggested that if I wanted to practice smut that I should write a fanfic for the one of the most famous smut fanfic turned into book ever. So I've started one. Enjoy!

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	2. Chapter 2: Crutches

**Emmalynn Jones**

Sighing, I could feel the dread setting in, waiting for tonight. Mr. Salazar drones on about biology in his lecture while the soothing sound of a sprinkling rain fills the background. Luckily, Mr. Salazar was too impassioned to notice one girl of thirty-five students in the first row totally drifting off. Good thing I was majoring in architecture, I don't think I could take another year of this. I had already studied up on this particular subject so I zone out, pondering over how I thought the fundraiser would pan out today. Definitely going to be terrible. Everyone would watch me, I'd feel self-conscious, and I would have to catch up on all the time I had missed later. Why had I agreed to this?! Falling into a comatose state of bearing my head down onto my hand from my elbow propped on the arm rest, my eyelids feel weighed down by sand. Flicking my pencil up the table and watching in utter boredom when it rolls back down, the door opening interrupts me. Another student coming in late I suppose. Lazily, I peek over my hand.

A boy obscured from his hood up against the gentle patter of rain and a hopping on a crutch nods to Mr. Salazar and the grizzled professor nods back, jumping back into his speech. Returning to my pencil, I ignore the newcomer. It's not like he would look at me. Whispering begins from behind me. Ugh. Brianna and Ashley. I avoided the two brunettes whenever it was possible.

They ignored me and I ignored them and we got along just fine. Unfortunately, we all shared this class and they had to sit right behind me since they arrived late and no more seats were available.

"Can I sit here?"

I startle when the boy who came in a second ago gestures next to me. I was sitting in the front row one in from the end so he probably needed that to sit without banging his cast around. The other one was taken on the other side of the room. Obviously, it would be stupid to go up the rows since they were on stairs, extra trouble for crutches converting into trouble for him.

Dumbfounded, I nod. So this was what had the twits behind me in an uproar. They giggle at my mute staring as he thanks me breathlessly with a stunning smile, taking the chair beside me. He had short dark hair styled in a faux-hawk with naturally, lighter ends that I wanted to run my fingers through, dark eyes fringed with black eyelashes, small freckles randomly dotted his neck and face, and white teeth surrounded by smiling lips. I blush a fiery red and immediately return to my notes, scribbling furiously.

"I'm Giovanni but everyone calls me Gio." Whispering, he leans over the armrest and shoots me a winning, kind grin.

In my rush to answer him, I squeak out pitifully on a dry throat, "Em-ma."

He nods and we stop talking when Mr. Salazar paces to our side of the room.

I discreetly study him from my peripheral vision. He was good looking in an open way, a boy next door sort of attractive, unlike Theo who oozed intimidation with perfection and chiseled features, not to mention wealth and natural athletic grace. Hoodie boy was fashionable cute, like an artist or musician, yet relatable and unthreatening, someone you could casually approach in a record store or coffee house. Endearing with his half smiles and black glasses that he pulled from his pocket in a very different way than Theo's charismatic charm - wait, why was I thinking about Theo when Gio sat next to me? This was the only guy talking to me without asking for directions or a pencil and I was comparing the two of them!? Theo must've really got under my skin that night…

Jiggling his knee, I'm aware of every breath I take, measuring them so I sound unaffected, tilting my head forward so the loose strands of my bun slip forward to hide my scrutinizing of him.

"Are those your notes?" Impressed, he taps the writing filled notebook.

"Yeah."

"You understand all of this?"

"What is there to understand? It's a simple idea."

He sits back and occasionally looks over at me, as if in deep thought.

After spending the entire class period secretly doodling in my notebook instead of taking listening, I pretend to be hard at work and paying attention. I couldn't afford to screw this up with Gio by being myself. I mean, I would still be myself but normal. Ugh, even in my head this was turning out bad.

Class officially ends and everyone clears out their stuff.

Seeing him pick up his things, I hurriedly shout/speak funnily, "What happened?" I point to his broken foot in the boot in explanation.

Gio hesitantly smiles, "Skateboarding accident."

Ashley and Brianna come on to either side of him. Rich brown hair, fake tans, and short shorts. Phoebe and her friends dressed like that but I didn't despise them for their looks. I disliked the two twits for their personality. You could tell them apart by their matching font, A and B necklaces. How brilliant and original. I would have nothing against that but they were so stereotypical. I would bet money that they did wear pink on Wednesdays.

Ashley, or twit 1, holds her mouth, "That's terrible!"

"I know!" Twit 2 agrees.

The three of them chat and I wave to Gio as I gather my supplies and walk out the door, headed to my bike in silent defeat.

"Emma!"

Happily confused, I turn to Gio jogging up to me, a hesitant smile forming.

Propping his foot against the curb, he asks, "Would you like to come over to my place to study sometime? You seem to know what you're doing and I have no clue."

"Yes! I mean… yes." Wow. I was so smooth. We exchange contact information and he tells me that he'll give me directions later. Ashley and Brianna wave to him as they walk away and he waves back happily.

Okay, he didn't know they were Satan's spawn but he would learn in time.

We part ways and I jump up and down in anticipation. My first real date after Jonathon Marks. My evil, upper-class ex from high school that broke up with me. In public. Painful was an understatement. I didn't like to revisit that too often.

Especially since the next day Theo's knuckles were bruised and Jonathon had a black eye and split lip.

Making my way through the campus to my next class, I notice that Ashley and Brianna were making the same route. How was it that the people that were my friends always managed to take classes on the other side of school and the people I didn't like were in the same class a seat over?

They giggle and gossip vapidly until Ashley or Brianna squeals, "OmiGod. Is that Theodore Gray? I've only seen him at Rianna's parties!"

Their voices were practically indistinguishable, interchangeable, since they were both so high pitched and fake nice. Theo was casually chatting with his good looking, African-American friend, DeShawn. Laughing, Theo's eyes practically shine out, clear blue beacons of light in the drabness of the student's moods. I smile half-heartedly at his joy and he notices me.

Waving, he smiles and DeShawn nods. I wave back and hear someone hiss in my ear, "What are you doing, freak? He's waving at us."

Preparing to correct Brianna that he is indeed waving to me, Ashley beats me to it, "Look at her. She looks like a goldfish with her mouth hanging open like that."

Brianna over dyed hair brushes my arm when she leans near my shoulder, "What would you do with a guy like that, huh? What could you please him with? You're fat and mousy. Do you think he'd suffer through you without sex?"

They laugh cruelly and split off cackling to go to their classes. Theo and DeShawn each surround me.

"How are you Emma?"

I swallow the truth, "I'm great, thanks for asking. How about you?"

DeShawn strokes his chin thoughtfully, "Fantastic. Who were the honeys with you?"

"No one."

"Alright, when you figure out, tell me. Well man, I gotta go." DeShawn stops and claps Theo's shoulder.

"Hey man, I'll see you at practice." They bump fists.

"Sounds good. Later Emma."

"Bye!"

We walk, the sound of our footsteps the only noise. Pulling on his one shoulder strap backpack, Theo is obviously thinking about something.

I'd rather have his psychology analysis over with, "Alright. Out with it."

"Who were those girls? You seem upset." He studies my reaction quietly, those transparent blue eyes boring down into me with the intensity of lasers.

"They were nobody." It occurs to me that he might want to, "Don't date them!"

Calmly, he walks sideways to face me, his feet gracefully crossing over themselves, "I wasn't planning to."

"They're jerks from my class. Can we talk about something else? I don't like them."

"Then I don't either. You ready for tonight?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." I mutter darkly as I push my black, thick rimmed glasses back up my nose.

"Are you planning to go to the masquerade ball?" The masquerade ball started out as a school event formed by the students that sparked into this massive, exclusive thing that was hosted on school grounds in the historic, gothic, most architecturally beautiful building that wasn't used for much except this time of year. The inside was like an old-fashioned fairytale with the girls in long, extravagant dresses and the boys in tuxedos. There was a staff and shows. At least, that's what I've heard anyway…

"You're kidding, right?" It was massive and you had to get a special invite. Theo and Phoebe would get one of course but I was out of luck.

"Why?"

"Me? Go to one of those things?"

He shrugs, still not getting the problem, "Why not?"

"I didn't get invited."

"You can come as my guest."

"No. No way am I getting roped into another occasion with you."

"Ah, come on," he spins me around with a firm, confident hand, "You know you want to."

"Let go of me!" I laugh and step out of his grasp. Serious again, I ask, "What would I wear?"

"You know that Phoebe's been dying to dress you up right?"

"I'm not a Barbie doll." I remember how disastrous the last time was. I had to scrub my face all night.

The memory must have been transparent by the grimace I was wearing because he quickly defends her, "She's gotten a lot better."

Unconvinced, I simply say, "Sure."

Deftly changing it back to the night, Theo eases on his skills of persuasion, "Everett told me he was working that night."

"Yeah, that still isn't going to convince me." Everett was going to be a dancer for it as well as a bartender for most of the night. Usually the dancers were rich enough and too worn out to be doing much else but he decided to earn some extra money for school and home. I thought it was insane.

"And it's not like he could spare time to talk to me anyway."

"I have to meet with my parents. I'll be by later to pick you up." He checks his phone, "And we'll continue this conversation! I'm not done convincing you yet!"

'Like he could.' I snicker to myself; I resorted to lying in my head.

A/N: Holy cow! I have never seen that many subscribers in one day! Thanks everyone and anyone who did so!

**AnnahD**: She is called that because while she is not a little person she is really small. Let me just say that I have nothing against dwarves (little people, I don't know what they prefer to be called) but Emma is just extremely short. I have a friend who is about four feet, very slight, and is only taller than a little person by a small amount. Emma is tiny and delicate, I really wanted her to stand out against Theo if they were to walk together. I'm terrible at heights but I would make her about 4'8. Theo is approximately 6'3.

**I have two polls on my profile about writing, so please check 'em out!**

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	3. Chapter 3: Dates

**Emmalynn Taylor**

My phone buzzes on the floor, waking me from a light sleep. Reaching down, I start to wake up from my uncomfortable position on the couch. Oh, no. Crap. It was past time that Theo should have picked me up. I scroll through my phone in panic until I realize that he had texted.

'_Fundraiser moved to Saturday because of sudden storm. Ava and Phoebe will be there, fair warning. Don't think you can get out of this even though it's rescheduled ;)'_

I'm glad that Phoebe and Ava were going to be there. It would be good to have Grey family allies. The only down side to having Ava there, the only child of Kate and Elliot Grey, was that she would do her damndest to hook me up with someone. The bubbly blonde, optimistic girl usually liked everyone, so she would definitely try to get one of the dancers or rich kids for me.

While I wasn't exactly excited to go tonight, I was happy to get it over with. Still, at least it was moved to another day. I could study tonight. After mind-numbing math equations for an hour or so, another text buzzes on my phone.

'_Hey Emma, this is Gio._ _Care you free Saturday? Come to my dorm and we can work together._'

I check my schedule. The fundraiser was later in the day, I think it could work.

'_Sure! We'll have to do it earlier if that's alright.'_

'_Sounds great, see you then.'_

I pick my formal black dress out of the closet with a smile.

…

I nervously knock on the door to Gio's dorm, tapping my foot. It swings open and Gio appears, talking with someone in the room out of sight. Grinning, his joy fades into confusion when he sees it is me.

"Emma…" Surprised, he takes in my dress with what I hoped was happy surprise. It was a black shin length dress with long sleeves, paired with a dark cardigan. My flats pinch my heels, I know that by the end of the night, I'll have blisters.

I explain my ensemble to his gob-smacked speechlessness, "I have an event later and a friend will be here to pick me up in a bit."

"Are you sure you don't want to go home and get changed? It looks uncomfortable."

I dressed up and the only thing he can say is that it looks uncomfortable? Ignoring the stabs of disappointment, I shake my head. Smiling falsely, I say, "It's fine. Now, let's get going."

I study his casual sweatpants and old t-shirt. The understanding figuratively hits me smack in the face. He didn't ask me out, it wasn't an actual date. This was just a study date. My heart plummets when he invites me to come in and introduces me to his roommate Todd, who nods and goes back to playing on the computer. We sit on his couch and discuss the class. An hour passes by where I explain the syllabus. Gio was smart, funny, and a fast learner, it didn't take long.

'_I'm here.'_

Checking my phone subtly, I slip ite back in my purse, failing at escaping Gio's keen notice, "What is it?"

"My friend is here and I have to go if we're going to make it on time to this thing he has." I button my cardigan since there was no point in dawdling and we stand.

"Okay. I'll see you in class?" He slouches against the door frame with a lazy countenance once I'm in the hallway.

"Count on it." I close the door behind me with a smile.

I think this was the only time I had been split with indecision. I was having a great time with Gio even though I knew he didn't find me suitable dating substance.

A niggling in my gut starts as I jog to the parking lot. A pretty girl with long, tan legs strides past on the busy street without a care in the world as she flips her blonde hair, remaining oblivious to the men checking her out. Her purple sweatshirt had PINK by Victoria's Secret across the bust and her mile long legs stretched out beneath a white miniskirt. Is that what it was like? Being noticed? PINK girl didn't seem to care. Just once, I would love to have men look at me with similar lines of drool.

"Hey crazy, over here!" A black Aston Martin One-77 slickly slides over to the sidewalk and PINK girl watches on in a little bit of interest.

Theo rolls down the window as I approach, leaning over the sill wearing ray bans and his signature cocky, crooked grin. He definitely had PINK girls' attention now, she was standing straighter and flipping the ends of her hair over her back. He opens the car door on his side and I speedily stop him from getting my door and making a big production by resting my hand on his rising shoulder with a blush.

Embarrassed, I climb in the car that probably cost more than my college tuition, "It's alright. I can open my own door."

I slide into the all-black interior to relax in my leather seat. Thankful for the tinted windows, I study PINK girl's stunned face. Her mouth was still hanging open as we drove away.

"Sorry about the car, Colby is getting her paint redone."

Pulling down the sun visor for the mirror to fix my hair, I correct him, "'Colby' is a car Theo. Not a person." I can sense that he's gearing up for an argument so I say something to calm him, "So who did you borrow this from?"

"Phoebe."

"Your dad started to let her drive again?"

"No. It's why I got it. It's been sitting in the garage forever and it's a great car and I decided to use it tonight." He pats the dashboard with fond care. We glide through traffic, his skilled driving surpassing those around us. It was so easy for him to go fast without getting caught by me. It was exhilarating and I loved watching the scenery pass by at a quick rate.

My eyes trace an invisible line down his strong profile that I already knew by heart. His hair was slicked back but I was fond of it when the tips of his hair brushed his eyebrows or crystalline blue eyes at the very most. His steady hand grips the wheel with a professional ease and I remember back to that night when those knuckles lined with blue veins brushed against my-

"We're here."

Really? That seemed like nothing.

Anxiousness and dread settle heavily in my belly. Time to get this over with.

A/N: Holy cow! I have never seen that many subscribers in one day! Thanks everyone and anyone who did so!

This chapter has a ton of problems because I wrote most of it at around two in the morning, forgoing any kind of rest, so forgive me. Better to have it then wait. (I have a lot of mistakes in my previous chapters so I'll try to correct most of those.)

Also, I totally blanked about Ava. Then I saw her name and the infamous plot bunnies demanded that it wouldn't be complete without her brain process and story. So I will include her in my alternating pov's as well. Yay!

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	4. Chapter 4: The Guest

**Emmalynn Taylor**

Theo evenly slides the black vehicle next to the valets and turns to me before we get out of the car with a rhetorical inquiry, "Ready?"

I study his handsome face. What was I doing in a car like this with a guy like him? I lean over and fix his grey tie underneath the spotless black suit he has on, his white collar standing out against the strong, tan pillar of his throat.

"As I'll ever be." I mumble and he gracefully steps out. Cameras flash like always and Theo tosses the male valet the keys. He casually buttons his suit as he comes around to open my door.

I slide my fingers in the crook of his elbow, the smooth, crisp material of his suit sliding across my finger pads. I un-tuck my hair from behind my ears to cover my face.

"Ah Theo. When are ya' gonna give me somethin' good? The same lady all the time? That's gotta be boring. And I heard that you had game." One of the reporters crudely calls out as he clicks casual photos.

Theo chuckles artificially, "What can I say fellas? She's my best friend."

Protectively, he hustles me inside with a reassuring arm across my shoulder. Heat emanates from his close proximity and I fight the rising blush in my cheeks with difficulty. I gaze up at him underneath my lashes, his head turned to look behind us to make sure those men didn't follow us. How could he remain oblivious to the electricity we were generating?

We enter the majestic skyscraper and I stare at the space age architectural structure. The servers tell us to stand by for a minute while they check the guest list. I inform Theo about the crown moldings and he listens, maybe not in utter fascination of a professional but with kindness and interest.

"Can I help you sir?" The female receptionist, who probably doesn't eat anything other than carrots, at the sleek, modern desk that matched the interior of steel, black and grey asks. She props her arms on her station to display her rather medium sized -ahem- assets. The style of the room was shiny, new, and screamed expensive. Personally, it's too cold and uncomfortable for my tastes.

"In more ways than one," The innuendo isn't lost on me as Theo leans against her desk and grins roguishly. I roll my eyes. He loved to show off. He picks up her pen and plays with it, his voice husky and low, "I'm looking for the Grey fundraiser. It's hosted for a family friend."

"Wait, you're…? Are you…?" Returning to whatever senses the raven haired girl has, her voice drops into a purr again, "I'm sorry, please excuse my lack of professionalism. Your name sir?"

Clicking her pen, she stands in hand with a black glass clipboard, waiting expectantly with an eager smile.

"Theodore Grey." Theo grins. He basked in the surprise, in fact, he loved it.

"…I'm sorry?"

"Grey. Theodore Grey. And guest." He casually plucks the list from her fingers as she blinks rapidly and stands motionless in shock, "Let me see… I should be on the list…"

"Sir, I'm so sorry! Please forgive me, go right up. I'll let the guards know you're here. Please go right up."

I roll my eyes once more as the elevator doors close, "Did you have to do that to that poor woman?"

"I know you love it."

I clean my black, thick rimmed glasses on a scrap of cloth from my bag. The cocky grin vanishes from his face and he discerns my trademark distress gesture.

Theo watches my display with concern that's been lurking underneath his cheery demeanor. Dropping his smug tone, he asks, "What's wrong? You've been acting weird all night."

"I'm fine. Nothing is going on."

He gently hooks his index finger underneath my chin, forcing me to look up at him. I rebel by staring at the buttons in the elevator, not wanting to break into tears at the alarm that would be on his face. There would also be pity and bewilderment even if he would never admit that to my face.

"Emma. I know you. Hell, I've known you for your entire life."

"I told you," I swat his large hand away in irritation, "Nothing is going on."

"Then why have you been admiring the floor for this long? Wait, did I do something? Whatever I've done to upset you, I'm sorry. Is it because I asked you to the fundraiser? You said you wouldn't mind and I thought that-"

"No! Of course not. Why would you even think like that?"

Running his hand through his hair, he exclaims, "Because you haven't laughed at any of my corny jokes the entire time you've been with me."

"That's because none of your jokes are funny." I crack a smile.

"You wound me." He clutches his heart and hangs his head, faking the moans of pain.

My smile cracks and he returns to the seriousness of the topic but the elevator doors slide open.

"Emma!"

"Ava!"

Ava Grey, daughter of Elliot and Kate Grey, comes striding towards me with small _clicks_ as fast as she can in her high heels that match her navy blue, modest yet still gorgeous empire dress with lace sleeves that ended at her elbow. Her golden curls, she inherited from her mom, that she usually fixes in a combed ponytail are in a low bun at the back of her head at the nape of her neck, wisps framing her face. She bends down and hugs me, her model legs a huge height difference between us. Ava reminded me of old Hollywood beauty, like Marilyn Monroe or Jayne Mansfield, that of an eighties pin up girl. Feminine round face, eyes framed by black lashes, and lips plump. She had n hourglass figure, almost to the extreme. Her makeup was simple and elegant (just like her), her lips a soft pink in her cheek splitting grin. Everything from the top of her head to the tips of her toes was feminine, all soft curves and round edges.

"We're not done talking about this." Theo pastes on a happy expression and shakes the hands of his parent's friends and guests.

Ava takes me by the arm and we beam at each other, my angst over Gio momentarily forgotten. Men stare at her as we walk past and I have to push aside a twinge of jealousy. I couldn't hate Ava. No one could when they knew how amazingly awesome she is. Except for those stupid girls who couldn't overlook the fact that she's kind and beautiful. Hard to stomach your own ugliness when you're around someone inherently good I guess.

We stand off to the side and Ava nibbles on a chocolate strawberry, "Is your brother coming?"

"Couldn't make it. He's working tonight."

"Ah, right. Bartender/entertainer at Big Bang. I thought she might like to- Teddy told you that Phoebe is coming back tonight right?"

"Yeah. Nervous?"

"No. Yes."

"It's completely understandable. Phoebe has probably changed considerably since we last saw her." Which was seven years ago.

"Yeah. Though, who can change Phoebes, right? I have faith that she's mostly the girl we knew who left."

"I do- Speak of the devil."

"What?"

"There." I point over to where she stands near the elevator with Mr. Grey.

Phoebe.

A/N: Whoo! It's been a while since I've updated! Good news: Out of my rut. Bad news: School. It will keep me busy just like every other teenager in academics. More good news to make a good news sandwich: This will be completed. How or when, well, I have no idea but bit by bit. It shall be completed someday.

As always, it will have mistakes. I'm not perfect, never claimed to be. Enjoy!

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	5. Chapter 5: Rebirth

**Phoebe Grey **

The massive room quiets into whispers and giggles. I break into sweat and the only thing keeping me grounded is the steady arm of my father's underneath my clutch.

"Welcome everyone."

They all break out of their murmurs and return to one another in louder tones at my father's ice breaking. Presumably to talk to one another about me. I'm not being narcissistic. I almost wish I was, sadly I was just being honest. I refrain from fidgeting with my long, black dress, the straps slipping off my shoulders.

All of the mystery surrounding me must be so enticing. I could only imagine the things being spoken. The second Grey heir, inexplicably disappearing after her sixteenth birthday. Drugs, depression, alcohol were my top guesses about what they thought.

In reality, well… I had an affair with my teacher in highschool. Mr. Conway taught my freshmen year of science. The innuendo's started when I was fourteen, the other stuff that- came a little later when I was fifteen and there was… I'll call it an incident for now, with two of my closest friends.

I was in class with Mr. Conway after school. I felt completely broken from the incident the day before and we started to discuss it. When I was around the professor, I felt smart, like he cared what was going on inside my head not for my family's money or my looks. He was a teacher just out of college, most of the girls giggled over how cute he was and the guys treated him like one of their own since he was into new-agey teaching methods. I told him that I had been held back for two years and he believed me. I know because I didn't look like a freshman.

Matthew Conway was cute, with his short dark hair, turquoise eyes, and casual suits. Though now? The only feelings I have when I think of him is disgust. After years of intense therapy and private tutoring, I see that I was such an idiot to be sucked into that. And that he was an even bigger idiot than I was. I have my regrets but I know, for the most part, that I was an innocent teenage victim of a pervert, teacher asshole. So while I have my regrets, I don't blame myself to the point of depression or, worst case scenario, suicide.

"Phoebe!" My two best friends from childhood race towards me.

"Ava! Emma? What are you doing here?" Happily, I hug her but search the crowd for her brother. Would he want to see me? More importantly, was I prepared to see him?

"Your brother talked me into it Phoebes." Ah, Phoebes. My dreaded pet name. Almost rhymed with feeds but sounded worse. Emma smiles kindly and grips my elbow, "He's not here. You don't have to worry."

I sigh inwardly in relief. I would see him sometime, of that I was sure. But I would put it off for as long as I could until I could find a suitable way to apologize.

Emma, Ava, and I are like the moon, the stars, and the sun. Ava was the sun obviously, Emma the stars since she held knowledge on everything, and I the moon, alone and destitute. Both of them were different in their own beautiful way. Ava was golden skin/hair and warmth emanated from her presence while Emma radiated a calm, Earthy tranquility. I could go to Emma about schoolwork and moral advice yet go to Ava to lift my spirits as well as advice on boyfriends or clothes. Apples and oranges or two sides of the same coin even. Emma was grounded and Ava was the bold one you went to so that you could be cheered out of your funk.

"Who? I don't know what you're talking about." I lie badly.

Ava takes our arms, "Let's go somewhere else to catch up."

Giggling, all of us are arm and arm, I feel like a little girl again. Like how we plotted against the boys or tried to be spies on the staff.

Off into a corner of the giant room, we're as secluded as possible with this many people in a room that could easily hold a hundred. The carefree mood turns sober and they return to their worried wariness as if they were dealing with a rabid animal instead of their friend. Understandable, yet a part of me itches to correct them.

Emma finds the courage to hesitantly say, "Do you want to talk about-"

"No."

"Phoebe…"

"Look Ava, someday I'll be able to. Don't ruin this moment for me right now. In the future, I'll be brave enough to tell both of you all about it."

They nod though I can see identical displeasure and disappointment hidden badly on their faces.

"Hey, did you guys know that Etienne is coming here to visit Theo?"

"What?! No way, I despise him."

Interest peaked, I snitch a glass of champagne of one of the server's trays, "Wow, hold up. You hate someone Ava? I thought you were all sunshine and light. What creature could be so terrible as to get on your hate list?"

Unconsciously, Emma plucks the glass from my fingers as if she was used to this, "Why do you hate him?"

"I don't- well… Is there any explanation needed?"

"Etienne may be… how do I say this tactfully… an asshole but from what I've heard, he's a good guy beneath the rough exterior."

"Now that's what you think. The real truth is that…"

They converse and a sense of warmth fills me, not from the other glass of champagne I swiped though that was a second guess, but from their idle chit-chat.

In this moment, I know that we're alright.

A/N: I love getting to the exciting parts of the story! Makes the whole thing worth it!

As always, it will have mistakes. I'm not perfect, never claimed to be.

**I have two polls on my profile about writing, so please check 'em out!**

**Questions? Love it? Hate it? Want to throttle my neck in joy or anger? Let me know in the comments! (Even you guest reviewers!)**

**Thanks everyone, have a great day/night!**


	6. Chapter 6: Decisions, decisions

**Ava Grey**

I remember the day that I met Etienne like it was yesterday. I was sitting innocently by on a metal bench, waiting for Theo to get out of class and along comes this short, cocky kid smoking a cigarette, which at the ripe age of my naïve, seventeen-years of age that I considered rebellious and fool hardy like some kind of James Dean wannabe. Beat-up old combat boots scuffed the ground as he strutted like he wanted the whole world to know where he was walking and the rest of him was stylishly dressed.

Mostly, I recall his face. His eyes saved from being colorless by the slight tint of blue, his black hair falling in a mass of messy waves stopping around his ears, his two front teeth had a small gap, his pearly white skin that reminded me of Snow White, and his pouting lips a soft pale pink color delicately held around his cigarette in the side of that mouth. The first thing that ever came out of those perfectly shaped, sweet lips was, "Wanna fuck?"

Immediately offended, I wrinkled my nose in distaste and primly returned to my battered copy of _Emma_. Leaning over my shoulder suggestively, he blew smoke in my face and flicked the cover, "Didn't realize you were a bookworm, Luv."

His surprisingly deep, accented voice rumbles out. Of course he had to have a perfect, authentic British accent. Luckily, I didn't really get the gene where all girls think boys are cute when they have accents. Because frankly, there always seemed to be too much competition for that kind of thing and he probably knew it and took advantage.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be rather than annoy an ingénue girl on a bench? Go crawl back from whatever hole you came from."

"Love to. Can't. I'm waiting for a friend."

"You have a friend? I'm impressed."

"I bet now you want to-"

"No. Theo, thank God."

"Ava- Etienne! What are you doing here?"

"I came to visit my mate here in school, that's what I'm doing."

Grinning, they smack each other on the shoulders, genuine joy lighting them up at being together.

I take into account that the British boy has a French name. Theo pronounced it Eh-tea-en.

"Ava, this is-"

Disdainfully, I gather my school bag and stand, "We've met."

Gleefully, I notice that I have a few inches on Etienne when standing in my modest heels.

"Shit, Theo. This your girlfriend? She's hot. And I spent the last five minutes seducing her."

Instead of a punch to his face like I was hoping, Theo takes the humor road, laughing at his friend's crude joke, "Gross man. She's my cousin but more like my sister."

I didn't understand how Theo could be friends with this… this… thing. The troublemaker type. Someone I had never crossed before in my preppy, serious school where the only thing we joked about was Star Wars or Star Trek or superheroes.

"-Ava, hey, Ava. You still with us? Because Emma was right in the middle of telling us something juicy." Phoebe ducks to catch my glazed over eyes and pokes me. I shake my head and smile brightly. Thank goodness that Etienne only came around on major holidays or trips with his mother.

"I'm listening, what is it?"

"That Etienne- the guy you hate-"

"Don't need to remind me."

"Apparently, he's the illegitimate child of the King of England."

"What?!"

"He's next in line for the throne since he's the oldest. And he's coming here to spend a few weeks with Theo since the tabloids are having a field day with him and King Henry. I feel so bad for his family, especially his mom and sister. Apparently his half-brother Callum, who was in line for the throne is unhappy to say the least."

"How…? What even…?"

"The King and Etienne's mom had a fling before he married the actual queen and he didn't know about Etienne being his kid. Well, he did for a while but they were getting all these death threats for the crown so he hid the information for a while."

"When is he coming here to visit Theo?" Because at one point or another, I knew sometime or other I would run into the boy that called me 'Asinine Ava' for five summers. I would have been impressed with his excellent vocabulary use if I wasn't so pissed.

"I think his plane is set to land tomorrow."

I curse and they stare at me.

"What?"

"This guy must really get under your skin."

"You have no idea." Which I always found particularly strange. My father, Elliot Grey, who owns a significant construction business, let me accompany him to the job and learned various things about tools. But mainly, I grew up with strong friendships with the gruff, tanned men around me. Dad didn't believe in forcing his men not to do anything he wouldn't do so when he wasn't doing paperwork he would be right there with them, myself in tow when mom wanted a day off. It's how he's stayed in good shape all these years. I was- still am- a tomboy underneath stylish clothes thanks to them. They taught me about cars, hammers, cars, where to shoot staple guns so that they would hurt the most if someone ever attacked me, cars, and what boys really wanted. (SEX. According to them anyways, so they vehemently warned me off of guys.)

I was bothered that I couldn't figure out the enigma that was and is still puzzling me today. What made him so different than all my other friends that were boys?

I snap out of my inner rambling when a waltz starts and I notice Emma staring vaguely at the couples on the floor. One couple in particular.

Padma Rushdie, a rich, foreign dignitary's daughter from Saudi Arabia tosses her thick, black man back as she laughs at my charming cousin while he dashingly sweeps her about the floor in a stunning performance of athleticism. They looked as if they were something out of a fairytale. The handsome, roguish prince dancing with his exotic, graceful beauty.

Phoebe and I share a _look_. Theo catches her gaze and beams brightly. They were so in love with each other it almost made me sick. Seriously, they had been 'secretly' in love for years. And by secretly, I mean that they were the only ones left out of the loop. For goodness sake, even our parents knew, that's how oblivious they were to each other.

Padma's gorgeous purple dress swings out to the side in a dramatic finish when Theo drops her into a dip, their faces mere centimeters apart. I hear Phoebe mumble thoughtfully about a 'superb dip' and I decide not to question how she learned to dance or why or when. I haven't known her this long not to have learned a few things.

Applause breaks out and Emma discreetly melts backwards towards the bathroom.

Phoebe and I grab each other in excitement. Did she finally realize her feelings for Theo were more than platonic? A spark of jealousy?

We catch up to her after a few seconds where she's on one of the stiff, aesthetically pleasing chairs in the waiting room for the bathroom. She's sitting there looking miserable and I doubt it's because those chairs are highly uncomfortable with all those geometric edges.

I sit down first but Phoebe beats me to the punch, asking, "What's wrong?"

"What is it like? To be noticed."

Taken aback, Phoebes and I share another look over her head. Not exactly what we were hoping for.

"Okay, what?"

"Never mind. It's stupid." She hangs her head in her hands with a groan.

"Emma, you can't say something like that without explaining."

Phoebe takes the blunter route, "Explain."

"Compared to you guys, I'm a mouse. I'm only a small annoyance that no one really wants at the party."

"What? That's not true."

"I know I'm going off on a self-pity tangent but I'm tired of being ignored."

"Yeah?" Phoebe smirks deviously with a mad light in her eyes and I have that gut feeling that she is going to make Emma wildly uncomfortable in the future.

"Yeah."

"Yeah?!" I make a slashing motion over my throat to stop egging her on to Phoebes which she somehow, _somehow_ misses.

"Yeah! I'm tired of being simple. I want to be so hot that when I walk through Gio's room in a black dress he won't focus on the fact that I look uncomfortable because he'll be so uncomfortable in his pants!"

She's panting crazily, her hands fisted in her dress and Phoebe looks like she sucking in the insanity, practically salivating at the bit for a chance to get her hands on Emma. Because I'm the only rational one right now, I back her up when I hold my hands up in the universal gesture of 'stop or you're going to hit a train'. Phoebe snarls, anticipating my rant of logic and settles back, preparing to counter my argument.

We had an angel vs. demon on your shoulder thing going on for years. Just like when we were kids and Phoebe dared Emma to steal the cookies off the top of the fridge because she was a gymnast and I didn't want her to get hurt so I advised against. Long story long, Emma fell off the ladder and almost broke her arm and cried until Phoebe bribed someone to get the cookies so that she could give them to Emma to stop her from ratting out. Don't get me wrong, I love Phoebe. She just isn't known for her superb judgment.

"Whoa there. What's this all about? Who's Gio?"

The blasting I was expecting isn't there from Phoebes.

She simply opens her mouth, closes, and opens again like a goldfish, stating, "Actually, I want to hear this too."

"Gio was this guy in my class that I thought liked me, which he does don't get me wrong, but in the friend way. He basically friend-zoned me. He only wanted me for my brains when I went over to his dorm."

"What, like a zombie? Brains, give me brains," Phoebe laughs gutturally and I glare at her behind my ashamed, spread fingers over my eyes to let her know that now probably isn't the time for zombie impressions even if they are good and she breaks off immediately.

"Sorry, you were saying?" Phoebe pats her arm kindly.

That's when all hell breaks loose because Emma sighs in dread yet still says the worst thing possible to a shopaholic, "Give me a makeover guys."

A/N: WOW. Been a long time since I updated. Bad me. This King of England is strictly fictional I swear. Enjoy!

(Will finish someday. Maybe when I've graduated and become a millionaire I'll have more free time.)

**I have two polls on my profile about writing, so please check 'em out!**

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	7. Chapter 7: The Chrysalis

**Emma**

"Wake up, wake up, wake up." Incessant poking on my cheek continues even when I roll over. Ava giggles in the background.

"Emma, we have a lot to do today." Phoebe begins to tuck me up in a blanket burrito and once she's done, she rolls me off my bed.

Now that woke me up.

Slapping the ground, I seek my bag and Ava mercifully kicks it over. Popping my glasses on, I blearily clear my eyes. I probably made a pretty pathetic sight, at their feet, my eyes practically blind without my glasses, and a hoarse, raspy voice.

"What are you guys doing here? It's a Saturday."

"I couldn't stop her. Sorry. You know how she is when she sets her mind on something." Ava apologizes with a shrug and empathetic wince upside down from my vantage point above me in a standing position.

"Hello. _She_ is standing right here." Slightly offended, Phoebe waves her hand up and down over her face. Sadly, this doesn't distract her from her main objective, "Get dressed."

"I'm sick. To the verge of losing my voice if you haven't heard." It was true, I sounded like a raspy frog. A dying raspy frog that had seven packs of cigarettes a day. Ava shakes her head and smirks, as if trying to convince Phoebe was pointless.

"Too bad. Get up"

"Why?" I eye her suspiciously.

"Because I said so." I scoff and she raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow at me, "Today is the day. _Carpe Diem_ and all that. Remember our talk yesterday?"

"Alright, alright." I couldn't help feel that this was some sort of test that I was failing. I get to my feet and throw open my closet doors.

Luckily, before either one of them said anything, my roommate Sasha bursts into the room. Probably returning after a night of drinking and good old-fashioned debauchery (on her victims part anyways). Secretly, I was a little afraid of her. She was scary smart even though she tried to hide it. She was rich enough to get into this school with by paying yet brilliant enough to get in without money and her major had something to do with science and math. As far as I knew, she was going to be a lab worker for forensic crime labs.

Her curly, ebony hair was slightly mussed and her chocolate skin glowed as bright as her self-satisfied, big-bad-wolf lip curl. I took note of her wrinkled clothing with some envy as she strides into our dorm, completely oblivious to Phoebes and Ava and I, by the way she whistles under her breath, digging something out of her purse.

"Hey," Ava waves while Phoebe nods and Sasha startles, clutching her heart with one hand.

"Emma, your friend scared me!"

"Yeah, I can see that. Don't worry, we'll be leaving soon enough."

"Actually, I'm surprised-I mean relieved that you have friends around. Stay as long as you want guys."

I chuckle, "Nice save."

"I'll just… be over here." She settles onto her bed with noticeable curiosity.

"Okay."

"Back on target, let's see what you have here," Phoebe starts to drag all of my clothes, everything that I own out of my closet and sets it on any open space.

Ava pitches in and a few minutes later, they have it all out.

Ava whistles, her eyebrows raised, while Phoebe scowls, poking one of my clogs. Up on her perch, Sasha hisses empathetically to Ava and Phoebe, taking no thought of my feelings.

"What?" I demand.

Without saying a word, Phoebe snatches a garbage bag and throws in shirts with wild abandon.

"Hey! Stop!"

"Look Emma, if you want to be different, that means scrapping the old and in with the new."

"Ava?!" I search to her for help. The traitor simply nods.

Sasha squeals, claps her hands, and rushes over in excitement and I almost hug her. What a good roommate, coming to help me out.

"Is this a fashion intervention? Because I totally have to join."

What?! No!

"Sasha, I'm sure you're tired after a long, _long_ night-"

Phoebe scans her; I suppose she approves of what she sees, and nods sharply, "We could always use the extra help."

In a whirlwind, all three girls completely destroy my clothing despite my protests about why I need that shirt that I won in sixth grade for a gymnastics competition. Because who knows when it will come in handy?! Even if it is too small for me, I had to keep it for the memories, right?

"Guys, what will I wear when I go out?"

"We're going shopping. Duh."

"I have no money. And I'm wearing my pajama's." Which were baggy sweatpants and if I recall, one of Everett's old, baggy dance shirts that I had stolen for myself.

"It'll work for shopping early in the morning. And we're buying."

"What?! No!" Phoebe and I square off in a Mexican stand-off while Sasha watches on mild amusement.

"Yes. You've been our best friend for years. And think about all the money we have sitting around in our bank accounts."

"Yes. In _your_ back accounts. Where it should be."

"Dude, we're using our money whether you like it or not. Consider it a birthday present for all those years I missed."

"But-"

"No buts."

Suddenly, in the corner of my eye, Ava digs out a sketchbook from the bottom right edge of my closet hidden under a pair of boots and unearths it.

I cry out in panic and dive for it, yet alas, it was too late.

"Emma, did you draw these?" My signature at the bottom was proof enough.

"Why? What, what is it?" Sasha and Phoebe crowd closer to Ava to look over her shoulder. I am rebuked by their shoving hands and steam in silence.

"Wow." Sasha is the first to speak.

"Emma, these are amazing." Ava flips through the pages.

"No, they're embarrassing. Just put it away."

They all sink to the floor in unison, never taking their glued eyes away from the pages.

"Here I thought you had no fashion sense. Except for yourself maybe."

For a second, I wonder if they missed it. Unfortunately, I'm not that lucky when Ava says, "Is that… is that me?"

"It's based on you. Like your skin tone and stuff, what color would look good with your hair, that kind of thing."

I kneel in front of them, tracing my fingers over the simple straight lines of the model girl in the pink rose, floor-length dress. Elegant simplicity is what I was shooting for. The sketch was created since I was inspired by what designers used to make their ideas onto. I never thought anyone would ever see the sketchbook. Because that's what they all were, simple ideas. Dots and slight scratches of my pencil made lips and eyes.

Phoebe flips to the next page, this one in her likeness. Deep red contrasted the white paper skin of the sketch, popping off the page with dramatic colors. The spaghetti straps securely held up the daring neckline. It was medium-length, coming to her shins, and the skirt fell in overlapping fabric that would look magnificent if she were to twirl off the page.

"Dramatic. Like me. I love it." I snap up at her specific word choice of dramatic since that was my main overlying theme working on the whole drawing.

Impatient, Sasha, flips the page. A girl with dark skin and a bright orange, draped, short dress makes her look flirty in what I wanted to be silk. Her tight, black curls are natural and spread wildly behind her head spilling onto her shoulders.

"I knew I looked good in orange." Is the only thing Sasha can utter.

Ava and Phoebe probe me with their sharp, knowing gazes as they search through the sketchbook to find a few more until the most important one catches their attention at the back of the book.

The last one is a white dress, the bodice is symmetrical and intricate details/designs are worked into the corset while the bottom half is soft and extends slightly like an upside down flower, its' petals in bloom. It had sparkles dotting places occasionally and sweetheart neckline showcases the sleeveless shoulders and dark hair tumbling down the pale skin.

I try to cover the silence with my awkward mumbling, "It's another one of you Phoebe. The white really brings out your skin tone."

"No Em, it really brings out _your_ skin tone."

I can't think of anything to say now that they've outed me and so we sit in quiet.

"Dude…" Phoebe finally mumbles, effectively translating the girls' feelings as a whole with that one word uttered in awe and joy and a mixture of others that I can't decipher.

"Shut up."

"Emma, this is amazing." Ava taps the book.

"Well- I- thanks- but- where are you taking that Phoebe?!"

"Relax. Nothing will happen to it." She proceeds to carefully stow it in her bag, tucking the black sketchbook in the safety of the purse.

"Why?"

"Because we're going to do the dance. In those dresses that you designed."

"Uh, what dance?"

"Only the most important dance of the year dumbo."

I immediately counter with, "No."

"Yes. You want my help, you got it. This is the deal. But I might have to make a few tweaks to make them work in the real world."

"No. We're not making the dresses."

Sasha pipes in with, "Yes. I love that dress and I've never even worn it. Once it's made, put that on my tab. I'm getting it. But I'll be out of town for the dance. Should be fun for you guys!"

Sometimes I really wanted to stab my happy, enthusiastic roommate. This was one of those times.

"I'm not going to the dance!" I shout while she snorts and picks at her nail polish.

Phoebe grinds out my name, "Emma."

"Okay, say if I was- metaphorically of course," I hurriedly say.

Instead of Phoebe, Ava pipes in, "Of course."

"Well, if I were to go, I wouldn't be ready in time."

Without hesitation, Phoebe butts in, "You would be."

"Phoebe, it's in a week or so. And it's Halloween themed. Where would I get the accompanying costume that would match the dresses?"

"We'll be about done today. Don't worry about getting the other stuff, I know who can help us."

"What?! There would be no way."

"You're getting your braces and everything removed tomorrow. I'd say there's no better time than now."

In the background, I hear Sasha's voice, "Congrats!"

"How- how did you know that?" Bewildered, I choke out the question in pure confusion.

"Dude. I know everything." Phoebe waves the noise away with a bat of her hand.

"…"

"I _might_ have stolen your phone to look at your schedule last night when you were having a break down in the bathroom."

"Phoebe!" Ava admonishes Phoebes and she looks rightly abashed for a girl who admits anything without shame.

"Anyway, let's get going. Are you coming or what?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," I mutter even though the question was directed at Sasha.

Sasha grins and stands from the end of her bed, "I thought you'd never ask. Where're we going?"

…

We arrive at a small, posh place with solar panels and modern, warm window features. The building is in an orange sunset type color and I'm set at ease for some reason.

Once we enter, it's another story. Willowy girls with rocker and punk and complicated, trendy hairstyles guard the premises with fierce eye make-up and sharp cheekbones.

Ava and Phoebe enter fearlessly, striding through the chic glass doors like they owned the place.

"Marcelo!" Calls Phoebe.

Out glides a Hispanic, mountain type man with black hair cut short with a small hoop earring. Either he was the business manager or a bodyguard. Instead, my suspicions quickly die when he smiles kindly to the twits that called him out. Gathering them into gentle hug, he reminds me of my own father, grizzled and tough until you knew him personally.

"And who is this little beauty?" Turning to me with twinkling eyes, I gulp and shake his hand.

"I'm Emma."

"These two have told me a lot about you."

"Take everything you know about me and think the opposite and you'll have it right."

His booming laugh practically shakes the ground.

Sasha introduces herself and they chat about her locks for a minute, Marcelo giving her some tips about handling ultra curly hair.

"Marcelo. Work your magic."

He nods and slowly leads the way as if not to startle me. Snapping his fingers in a manner that wasn't annoying, he signals for his assistants. The white-blonde with the buzz cut follows and starts to prepare tools off to the side while another girl with purple hair in a Mohawk assists her.

Marcelo lifts my limp, frizzy curls and studies me in the mirror, turning me this way and that in the chair. The girls watch us, sitting on stools provided by the mystery workers.

"No peeking." He closes the mirrors blind. I wisely let it go.

Deep in concentration, he swivels the chair over to the sinks and lathers my hair into a deep foam. Relaxing for once this entire day, I almost nod off until I feel my shoes being taken off. One of the intimidating rocker chicks eyes my toe and finger nails with scorn. Picking up clippers, they begin to work on pedicures and manicures.

"What color would you like?"

"Uh…Um…"

Marcelo seems to sense my panic and states while cutting my hair, "Silver."

I was surprised that such a tall, mountain-esque man was so careful. Marcelo reminded me of a soft-spoken, gentle giant. Yet even though he was mute most of the time I could tell that his workers respected him deeply.

"Er, okay. Yeah, silver."

Snipping away, I gaze at my friends in panic. They just give me thumbs-ups and I scowl at them.

"Done."

"Oh good."

"Done with your hair. I'll go write some basic tips and tricks to keep it in shape and in order. My wife Amy will assist you with make-up and skin-care. You have long, lovely hair but it has a tendency to dull and weaken without moisture. Make sure that you take good care of it. I'll you get some products that should help."

"Can I see?" I point to the covered mirror.

Marcelo smiles and nods, "Of course. Unveiling is my favorite part."

My untamable mane of messy, gigantic curls is now ringlets mixed with soft waves. The usually out of control, limp strands are replaced with hair that should be in a commercial. Gingerly, I stroke a swirl, surprised by its springyness.

I breathe out, "Thank you."

"No problem." Marcelo smiles and continues to jot down notes.

"Marcelo, would you mind putting Emma's hair back? Shopping is scheduled after this." Phoebe requests sweetly.

"Anything."

"Thank you."

Sweeping all of my hair into a messy ponytail with wisps framing my face, I'm almost disappointed to see my lovely locks disappear.

"Hello, you must be the infamous Emma. I'm Amy." Another bleach blonde, this one with red stripes, enters from another busy room.

Her angular face was even more striking with her sharply cut chin length hair. Wide, light brown eyes assess me, her smile wide and lips red. While she was dressed all in black, black apron, black leggings that showed off her incredible legs, the kindness on her face was evident.

I was more surprised that this was Marcelo's wife! She's gorgeous! Not that he wasn't handsome in his own way, looking like he was in the mafia or a gang. They share a light kiss before she returns her attention to me.

"Wow, how often do you guys talk about me?" Nervously, I chuckle at my friends, threatening the girls with my dagger eyes.

Amy snickers indelicately when Phoebe casually says, "A lot."

"Shall we get to work?" Amy gestures to the multiple brushes set out and my face. She had some kind of accent and if I were to guess, Australian.

"Be my guest." Anxiously, I close my eyes and feel cool, clean fingers applying dots of cream here and there.

To put me more at ease, she explains what she's doing, how, and why.

Soon before I know it, I'm giggling at her jokes and stories of past prima-donna customers.

"Open your eyes Emma."

I stare back into the mirror in shock, "…that's me?"

She snorts, "Yes."

My green eyes seemed larger and open, my mouth a soft pink, and my skin tone even and clear even though I had a monstrous pimple on my cheek a few minutes ago.

"Let's talk about keeping your acne under control. Use this every night, this every week, and this every couple of days. Soon, your skin won't need this in a few days and will only need this one every few days. Oh, this one is used when you're going to go a long time with make-up on."

I juggle the bottles that she stacks into my arms. Confused, I mouth 'Help' to my friends.

Amy smirks, "You know what, let me just write it down for you."

"Thank you. Thank you both for everything."

"Don't worry Emma, Phoebe is scheduled to have you brought in before the big dance. We'll see each other quite soon."

I cursed Phoebe in my head.

…

"On to our next-and second to last- stop."

"Thank Lord." Already exhausted from all of the shopping in expensive stores, I slump on the seats on the black SUV and into the middle seat where Ava is playing games on her phone. I found some great clothes I'll admit. Even if I am really, really tired.

Phoebe and Sasha have bonded quickly over torturing me and are currently discussing Sasha's list of ex-boyfriends against Phoebe's exes.

"And here we are!"

"Here? This is the place?" I could hardly believe my eyes. We were parked in front of a cute, little, yellow suburban house, complete with the picket fence and everything.

"Yep." They all jump out of the car, Sasha too even though she's just as clueless as I am.

Ava rings the doorbell and a cute little, meticulously dressed grandmotherly type opens the front door. The inside of the house smelled like cookies and had pictures hanging on the wall.

"Oh, hello girls. Let me guess… You are Mr. Christian Grey's daughter Phoebe. You both have the baby blues. And you must be Ava. Same hair as your mother dear," She pats Ava and Phoebe's cheeks in a non-threatening manner.

"Hi, I'm Emma and this is Sasha, my roommate."

"Lovely to meet you both. I'm Caroline Acton. Welcome. Please come inside. Can't have the neighbors trying to sneak peeks at my beautiful guests."

The atmosphere of her house is cozy and inviting, it practically screams lazy days and tranquil nights.

"Would any of you like something to drink? I have coffee, water, soda pop…" I find it adorable that she calls it soda pop.

"Water please."

Ava and Sasha second me.

"Yep." We all glare at Phoebe. Grouchily, she glares right back and says, "Please."

"All of you make yourselves comfortable in here," she opens a door to customized room filled with shelves of material and cabinets full of beads and papers filled with sketches on a desk.

"Sorry about the mess. It's organized chaos in here for me and if anyone cleans up, it throws me for a loop." Caroline returned silently behind us.

Phoebe digs my sketchbook out and Caroline peruses it. I clutch my water glass, the condensation dripping down over my knuckles.

I wait in uneasy fidgeting while she flips through with Ava and Phoebe discussing the material cost and payment in low tones. This woman is a paid-professional, what would she think of my silly scribbles?

A bead of sweat slides my fore-head when she looks up with a smile, "These are wonderful. If I hadn't known these were made by you I would have thought it specialized."

Bashfully, I stare at my feet in pride, "Thank you."

"Oh, so you listen to her and not your friends? Thanks for the vote of confidence Emma."

I ignore her and Caroline grins, "All done dear. Here's your book."

We take turns up on the model stand where Caroline measures all of us.

I'm last and the other girls are discussing fabrics and parties over in the corner by the desk.

Concerned when Mrs. Acton stares at my chest, I warily ask what's wrong.

"Sorry hun. Didn't know where your chest was. Your figure is buried underneath all this fabric."

Great. The only action I get is from an older woman measuring me.

"These will be just magnificent when I'm done. Your lucky boyfriend won't be able to believe his luck. Or his eyes."

"Thank you but I don't…"

"Then you will once someone sees you in this. You're a stunning young lady."

"You seem very confident Mrs. Acton." Amused, I look down at her where she's measuring my legs.

"Oh, call it an old woman's intuition. And Caroline is just fine." Gazing up with a smile, she mischievously winks.

Sasha hesitantly interrupts, apologetically telling us that she really has to go meet with a history tutor.

We exit Caroline's house, our spirits raised by her kindness and a few brownies she had made. Pure heaven those things.

…

We dropped Sasha off at her tutor's house and we stop at random street corner.

"Why are we stopping?"

"We're walking the rest of way." Phoebe and Ava look to me in the backseat and I can' t help feeling like a little kid again.

"What?! Why?"

They share a look.

"What? What was that look?"

Exiting the car, we step outside. The fall day wasn't so bad since the sun was still shining rather than when we left early this morning.

The same girl that I saw wearing the purple PINK sweatshirt the night of Theo's party walks by.

"Watch her." Ava nods at her as we walk behind her by a decent amount.

Incredulously, I recoil, "We're stalking people now?"

"Just do it." Phoebe drags me up with them.

A hassled college student who looks like a version of me with blonde hair instead of black runs after her papers blowing in the slight wind that's rustling the trees.

"Now see that girl over there? Compare them."

There wasn't much to compare. Both of them were equal in looks and clothing.

Except… there was one thing that stuck out to me.

Anytime that a guy would walk past, Blondie would avert her eyes and fiddle with her phone while Purple PINK girl smirked and tossed her hair behind her shoulder.

"I still don't get why we're watching people…"

"What's the difference between PINK sweatshirt over there and yourself?" Phoebe demands.

I scratch my brains. Geez, doing chemistry was easier than this stuff, "Looks, money, backgrounds…"

"You're thinking too much. I hate it when she does that. Have I ever said that?"

Ava answers her rapid-fire question naturally, "Probably. You go off on a lot of spiels and tangents."

"Yes, well you are. Thinking too much."

Out of patience, I request, "The point please?"

"Confidence."

"What?"

"Yes. That's what you and Blondie are missing. There's no stuff in your strut. You practically shout at available guys to leave you alone. Now walk."

"What?"

"Is there an echo in your brain? I said walk."

"Here? In the middle of the park where everyone can see me?"

"If I said let's go walk in private I would have said let's go walk in private."

"Ava, help?"

"You wanted to reinvent yourself, so here you go," Ava pushes me onto the side-walk. I glare at them and Ava laughs.

I jog around for a minute or so while they giggle on the grass until Ava finally takes pity on me and joins me.

"Pretend you're on a fashion runway."

"We're not."

"You think I don't know that dork? Now come on."

Sighing, I appease her.

"No, really. I want you to feel ridiculous while you do it."

So I do, I blow kisses and toss my hair around and pose with my hands on my hips and everything.

"Perfect. Tone that down a little and I think you're good to go."

"You think so?"

"That guy over there does."

At first, I didn't recognize him, "DeShawn?! What are you doing here?"

Grinning, I run and wrap him in a hug, happy for a distraction from one of the guys that I see at least three times a week.

"I'm sorry, have we met?" He takes me in, from the bottom my shoes to the top of my head. Ava and Phoebe trot over at a small distance away.

"DeShawn, quit joking around. It's me!" I croak out uncertainly on my sick voice.

"I'm almost positive I would have remembered a beauty like you."

"DeShawn. It's me, Emma."

"Emma? That's really you?"

"No I'm a robot clone of Emma. I AM HERE TO DESTROY YOU. BEEP BEEP BOOP. Yes it's me. That's what I just said." I manage to do some robot movement very well. I guess having a dancer brother comes in handy.

"Man, I didn't believe it at first especially with that voice. But after that dorky performance, I definitely believe it. What happened to you?"

"Why? Does it look bad?"

"No! You look- you look… wow."

"...Is that good…?"

"Yes. Has Grey seen you like this?"

Phoebes interrupts our happy reunion, "No, Theo hasn't. And he won't until the masquerade ball."

"Oh? And who are you to dictate? Not that I'm complainin'."

"Phoebe, Theo's sister. And this is Ava, our cousin."

"Whoa, hold up. The sister that just returned from who knows where?"

"I'd be the one."

"Welcome to the family." He pulls her in for a hug, "My fine, good-looking sister that smells wonderful…"

Phoebe laughs and asks, "Shouldn't I be the one that welcomes you?"

I giggle at his jocularity, knowing that his flirting is just that. Flirting. DeShawn already had a serious girlfriend.

"Well, if you're to have a proper homecoming then, no. Come here Ava, you too."

She laughs and shakes her head, "I'm good thanks."

"Alright. You're missing the love."

"I can live with that."

"Ouch… Hey ladies, it was great to meet and catch up and all but I gotta head to practice or my couch will make me run 'till my legs fall off."

We bid adieu and part ways but not before Phoebe pulls him close and threatens, "We're keeping Emma's transformation secret, okay?"

DeShawn looks legitimately frightened even though he has more weight than Phoebe and inches over her, "If I had my doubts about you being his sister, you've crushed them."

"Thanks…?"

"Oh, oh, oh oh! I see what you're doing!" DeShawn grins and looks back and forth between Ava, Phoebe, and I.

"Shh!" Ava cups his mouth.

Confused at being left out of the loop, I scrunch my brow and ask, "What?"

He shakes his fingers at them, "Good luck, I'll help when I can."

"What? Help with what?"

DeShawn jogs down the road, occasionally chuckling to himself.

"What? What was he talking about?"

"Nothing. Come on, let's go home and get everything put away and get prepared for the upcoming ball."

Right. The upcoming ball. That I was going to.

A/N: This chapter is probably word vomit because it was late at night that I wrote most of it but I have to find time to write. Am I right or am I write? (Pun!) Sorry. Out of curiosity, does anyone want any pics of the people that I think they look like? Enjoy!

**I have two polls on my profile about writing, so please check 'em out!**

**Questions? Love it? Hate it? Want to throttle my neck in joy or anger? Let me know in the comments! (Even you guest reviewers!)**

**Thanks everyone, have a great day/night!**


	8. Chapter 8: Threat Noted

**Emma**

"Do you really think this is appropriate for school on such a cold day? I could break my neck in these shoes."

I shift uncomfortably in my gold studded purple platform pumps and straighten my silky purple dress in front of the full length mirror we had on the back of the closet door. Sasha thumbs through her bio textbook as she sits on her bed, watching me from the corner of her eye. I finger the slippery material and pray that the straps don't slip or the thin black belt around my waist keeps it in place. My hair was styled in loose waves by my roommate and my glasses were coincidentally missing so I had to wear my contacts. They 'disappeared' when Phoebe came and went. I actually was allowed to do my own make-up today and I was pretty proud that I didn't have to start over the first time.

"Think of how shocked Gio will be when he sees you. Not to mention how pissed off Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum will be." I had confessed to Sasha about Ashley and Brianna and she was really supportive. Apparently, one of them spiked Sasha's drink with something unpleasant as a joke.

"Okay."

"Dude, what are you still doing here? You look hot, get to class and show 'em what you got."

"Right, right," I mutter as I run my tongue over my newly liberated teeth while I gather my things.

I practiced walking in the heels the day before and felt confident that I wouldn't fall flat on my face every two seconds. Though it felt unnatural to be in a dress instead of my usual jeans and a t-shirt ensemble. That's what I was going to wear today except Ava insisted that I dress up.

My earrings jangle joyously in my ears and I make it to class early. Ashley and Brianna pause on their chatting when I stride over to my seat, feeling ultra-powerful in my height change. Gio gapes openly as I take a seat next to him. Yeah, Sasha was right, it's worth dressing up for this kind of reaction.

"Excuse me, my friend sits here and…" Gio's voice trails off when I blink up at him from where I'm bending down to get in my shoulder bag.

"Gio, are you alright?"

"Emma?" He squeaks out in a high-pitch.

I giggle at his china plate big, brown eyes, "Who else would it be?"

"Wow-you…wow." Sweetly, he blushes and rubs the back of his neck.

"A lot of people have been saying that. Good or bad?"

"Definitely good. What happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're dressed differently."

I raise an eyebrow.

He stumbles to correct himself, "You looked great before and you look good now, I'm just surprised and-"

I cover seamlessly, "My friends and I all dress like crap for the first couple of days in as a joke."

It was great to be dressed well. I felt like I could take on the world and smile at guys and the world would give me what I want.

"Oh." Gio slumps in his chair and sneaks stunned peeks at me. I mentally cheer.

"Let us begin today class by discussing…" Mr. Salazar's voice rings clearly out over his student's conversations. I dig out a notebook and begin to scrawl out some notes. Gio jumps to get his own school supplies out.

At the end of class, Gio has glanced over seven times, bumped my elbow twice, and scooted closer. I was thrilled.

"Emma?"

"Hmm?" I force myself to meet his eyes slowly and casually as I pack my stuff away.

"Have you heard what the theme is going to be for the masquerade ball yet?"

"Theme? They have themes?" Momentarily, I panicked then calmed over the fact that Phoebe probably knew, in the span of three seconds.

"Well, yeah. Haven't you ever been?"

"Of course! I was just… surprised they haven't come out with it earlier. Yeah," I felt totally stupid for adding a random, nervous yeah t the end of my sentence.

"Are you going to go with anyone?"

My heart sang in my chest. Outside, I was as cool as a cucumber, "A couple of friends."

"Yeah, me too. Maybe, we'll see each other there?"

"Yes! I'm mean, yeah."

Watching until he turns the corner and out of sight do I finally allow myself to foolishly skip out to my next class.

My joy is short lived when I hear Ashley's screechy voice behind me, "_You're_ going to do the dance?"

"Yep. Aren't you?" I jerk to a stop mid-skip and turn on my heel to face them.

"Duh."

Brianna ignores our previous conversation to off-handedly say, "He's cute. Better keep an eye on him. The nice ones never stay faithful." Brianna circles around me to meet Ashley in front of me.

"Was that some kind of threat?" I snicker, trying not to reveal my anger and nervousness.

"No sweetie. We have bigger fish to fry. For instance…," Ashley nods to Theo as he obliviously jokes with his friends on the other side of the grass.

"You may think that now that you're dressing nice and sweet that you're all transformed so it makes you special. Don't get cocky and don't get in our way. Okay? Okay. See you at the dance!" They finger wave at me and fall in together in perfect step, swishing their maple hair as their hips sway side to side.

I knew that this day was too good to be true. Geez, leave it to them to screw up something that was going irrevocably right.

I search the grounds for Theo but he's already gone to his next class. Like I should be doing.

A/N: Hey guys, if anyone knows anything about free image hosters, feel free to tell me because I'm going to put up pics once the whole gang is written up. Enjoy!

**I have two polls on my profile about writing, so please check 'em out!**

**Questions? Love it? Hate it? Want to throttle my neck? Let me know in the comments! (Even you guest reviewers!)**

**Thanks everyone, have a great day/night!**


	9. Chapter 9: Arrival

**Emma**

"Emma." Sasha's quiet tone peacefully wakes me from my light resting.

Ugh. My throat felt dry and rusty.

"Hmm?" I snuggle deeper into my warm covers with a smile despite my sore chords.

"Wow, you sound terrible."

I rasp out a sarcastic, breathy, "Thanks."

"Today is the day."

"Christmas?" I giggle at her frustrated chuckle.

"Emma."

I groan and flip over, "Don't remind me or I'll lose my nerve."

"Too late. You sound pathetic by the way," I startle when Ava leans over me with a smile.

"Ava? Phoebe? What are you guys doing here?" I rack my sleep-addled brain for a time we were supposed to get together.

They each had two boxes, Phoebe holds them up with glee, "We have the dresses."

"Really? Let me see!" I squeak in excitement.

"Not until we all get ready later today."

Sympathetically, Ava frowns, "Sorry kid."

"So why are you guys here? To tease me with my own designs?"

Phoebe lightly smacks the back of my head, "No smartass. We're here to study, talk, whatever, and later, to get ready for tonight."

I pretend being injured from her disapproving pat and rub it with a frown, "So I can't even take a peek? She hit me Ava! I'm a sick, injured child!"

"Sorry." Ava apologizes insincerely.

"Well, Emma may not get her dress but I need mine right now for my cousin's wedding tomorrow. I'm heading out in thirty minutes for my ride so I can get there tonight."

"I'm sorry that you're going to be out of town for the ball Sasha."

"Yeah, that sucks." Ava echoes my sentiment.

"Dude, it's all good. Make sure to get plenty of pictures, I don't want to miss out on the decorations or any one's dresses."

"Before you leave, you have to show us what it looks like on!"

She raises her eyebrows and Phoebe hands her the box, "Put it on Sasha."

"Alright, alright." Throwing her hands up in the air, we cheer at her compliance.

"Emma, you are a designing genius," Sasha's calls through the bathroom door.

"Why?"

"Ladies, may I present myself looking totally sexy." Sasha's strides out of the bathroom, whipping a pink scarf to the side. She spins in front of us and finishes with jazz hands, "Ta da!"

Quite simply, she was stunning against the color choice just like I guessed she would be. Her mocha skin was warmer against the smoky orange tinted with hints of red. Those long legs that constantly peeked out underneath pajama booty shorts were fantastic with the short skirt, emphasized by those gold stilettos. Her ears had large, thin hoops, her arms decorated with bangles, and her neck with a large pendent, all of which were gold to match her shoes.

"Wait until my ex Frankie gets a load of me." Sasha's primps in front of the mirror, turning this way and that, while she pooches her lips and fluffs her hair. And a realization strikes me.

She felt powerful in that dress. More than that, she felt comfortable and good in that dress like she could take on the world and her shitty ex-boyfriend who she found making out with another girl at a party in some sorority house. Trust me, thins walls and loud talker, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that those two don't mix. All I wanted to say was TMI.

"Oh no! I'm gonna be late! Bye, good luck everyone!" She changes and trots out the door in record time just as a honk beeps outside.

I eat breakfast while Ava and Phoebe sift through their own homework on the ground.

"Hey Emma?"

I hide my smirk in to my coffee mug, answering, "Hmm?"

I knew the peace wouldn't last with these two. And for all the complaining that I do, I really loved it, I really loved them (in a platonic way even if they were hot). There was never quiet moment with my female best friends.

"Guess what?"

I crunch on a cough drop, "What? On an unrelated note anyone want anything? I have hot chocolate and coffee."

"Coffee for me please. Did you know that Ava is going to be singing at the event?"

"What!? That's so exciting!" I plop down onto my couch where Theo snuggled with me a few weeks ago and- no can't think about that right now, must focus on my friend.

"Guys, I've performed before. It's really not going to be that exciting." Ava rolls her eyes though I can tell she's secretly thrilled.

"Yeah, but you've never performed here. What happened? Tell me everything. Tell me, tell me, tell me," I jab her arm until she gives it up.

"Fine! Just stop poking me. A friend was going to sing for it but she got strep throat at the last minute and recommended me to the event coordinator. I auditioned and got it."

"That's great! Well, bad for your friend but great for you. What are you going to sing?"

"If I told you I would have to kill you kind of thing."

"I don't care that you won't tell me, it's still awesome!"

"It's not a big deal Em. Your brother is going to be performing as well because of his dancing and manning the bar. I've heard he has some serious skill in both areas."

"Yep."

Phoebe awkwardly sips from her mug and stares off to the side and Ava and I study her.

Phoebe clears her throat and defends herself, "What? Oh, uh right, how is he? Is her still seeing that… um, what's-her-face?"

I snort, "I don't know why you have such a problem with Cori. You were the ones that set them up. In fact, if I remember correctly, you two were close friends long before they got together."

"You didn't answer the question." Phoebe stares at me intently with her trademark blue Grey family eyes, as if she would resort to torture to get what she wants.

So she did still have feelings for my brother. Ava raises her eyebrows at me over her hot coco.

"Right now they're on a break. I don't-"

"Why?-"

"really know why. My brother's love life is his own. The less I know the better off I am." I finish my original thought.

"Hey Phoebe?" Ava nudges Phoebe's calf with her toe.

"Hmm?"

"You are so bad at faking disinterest if I ever saw it."

"Yeah, Phoebe what happened between the two of you? You guys were really close."

"I plead the Third Amendment."

"I believe that's the Fifth Amendment if you're aiming for the right to remain silent."

"Whatever dork face." Phoebe shoves me jokingly.

"Tell us."

Sighing, she scrubs her face with her hand, "Guys, I promise. Someday both of you will know everything about me. Right now… well, that's a whole 'nother piece of cake. These-"

"That's not even a saying…" I trail off when Ava pinches me and tilts her head at Phoebes with a scary face.

"-problems that I'm having will take some time to work through and I need you guys to be patient. I'm sorry, I wish I could tell you more. Everett and I had a falling out because of some complicated stuff."

"It's alright. I'm sorry. We won't press you anymore." I sigh discontentedly and Ava nods back understandingly. This would all be so much easier to help Phoebe if she would give us a clue.

"I'm going to turn the spotlight on to you now Ava. How are things going with Robby?" Phoebe munches on potato chips.

"Old news." Ava waves as if she was flicking an imaginary Corbin off her hand in annoyance.

"I take that as not well."

Ava stretches, miming a pretend watch, and shakes Phoebe and I, "Oh, look at the time. We should get ready. I can't believe that you're sick on your first formal event Emma."

"I know, maybe I shouldn't go," I squeak out on my sandy pipes. This would be my first serious debut since the make-over.

"Not even a tornado could derail us. So what are we waiting for?"

…

I stare back at myself in the mirror, almost unrecognizable. The matching white mask made of some kind of light weight plaster or stone I wore covered a good portion of my face. It sat comfortably, coolly on my skin with its intricate swirls. It was oblique though it was light and in the shape of a flying butterfly. A few wisps of hair hanging down to frame my face. The top half of my black hair was pinned up, the other left down, so that it fell down my back in rounded curls thanks to Marcelo. Amy made my make-up light and natural.

My dress was remarkable. Caroline beaded the corset in exactly the way I had drawn and the petal-like skirt twirled around me every time I spun. I had never felt like a princess in my life until this very moment. Surprisingly, my translucent platform pump shoes did _not_ pinch my feet. They had the same beading and sparkles as my bodice did. Glitter dusted my bare shoulders and especially the planes of my face like my cheekbones and forehead. Basically every available piece of skin was coated with a fine spray of silver glitter.

The one thing that I didn't expect or design was the weightless, see-through wings that had been set into a special hidden harness that hid its origin point. They were a stroke of genius from Caroline that she had pinned a sweet note that said, '_You are magic. All you have to do is believe_.'

With all the glitter and the wings, it wasn't hard to imagine myself as a fairy princess.

"Are you done in there?"

"Coming!" I roughly call back to Phoebe. There went my voice. I quickly grab my mother's necklace as a finishing touch. A princess cut, single diamond on a silver chain. I put on the earrings as well.

Smoothing my skirt, I make my grand entrance. The girls turn to me in their own finery.

Phoebe's red hot dress stopped just below her knees, the bottom of the skirt varied in swoopy length, rippling every time she moved a fit dancer muscle. Her shiny curly black hair, blue eyes sparkling from under her dark red mask, and pale skin made all the colors stand out vividly against the other. Her matching red lips are being worried between her white teeth. Red stilettos with thin straps wrapped up around her calves and elbow-length gloves -red of course- covered her hands. She folds her arms, unconscious of her see-through shawl. Her make-up was dramatic and eye-catching. In a good way of course.

Ava gracefully turns her head towards me with a smile on her pink lips. Her dress fell in a simple column with a secondary, transparent piece of cloth over the skirt that was a tiny bit longer than the solid underskirt that ended at her toes. The bust was a simple line showcasing her ample curves and a jeweled belt gathered the fabric at her small waist. The back was the main piece, it was completely bare except for the small amount of clear fabric over her shoulders where small flowers were sown in. She had an Audrey Hepburn-esque elegance with her hair in a simple French twist. Even though I couldn't see her feet, she had on color-coordinated soft pink, slingback Christian Louboutin pumps with peep toe. How I knew? She chatted about those shoes over the phone more times than I could count. Tapping her lace pink fan against her thigh, she breaks into a grin ten times brighter than the sun.

I open my mouth to ask them what they thought but all that came out was a raspy whistle.

Ava giggles and hands me a notepad after digging through her bag.

'_What do you guys think? Of the dresses?' _

"I think they're a work of art. Oh! I forgot, I have something for both of you." Ava snaps to her bag in a spark of remembrance, digging out roses. They were silk and were in three groups of color. Red, white, and pink. Ava expertly clips multiple, miniature roses in Phoebe's wild hair, then pins in a large, white rose at the back of my hair, and finally clips her own medium-sized light pink rose onto her mask.

"Now everyone will be able to find everyone else in the crowd."

Clicking the pen into working order, I furiously scrawl out, '_I lost my voice. Do I still have to go?'_

Snorting, Phoebe nods, "Yes. Cheer up, lover boy will be there."

'_His name's Gio. Then let's get this over with. Now remember, the building doors lock by midnight._'

"Yeah, I have to get home by soon after that."

Ava hooks our arms with a confident, mischievous light in her eyes, "Our carriage awaits ladies."

…

As it turned out, our carriage was an orange Dodge Challenger with black stripes things along the side. Ava had borrowed it for the night from her friend while her car was getting special care in the shop. The Challenger didn't have any leg room in the back. Although this came from Phoebe who was complaining every five minutes until Ava looked back and glared. That glare meant to respect the car and its driver.

Ava drives thoughtlessly. Not as if she had no consideration of our safety rather that she had spent more time in fast cars than in dresses. Her hand rests comfortably on the manual stick as she seamlessly shifts from gear to gear, the car purring and thrumming under her skilled control. She siphons some gas to the engine when we pull up to a red light to hear her baby 'purr' and my chair vibrates with pure power and rock music from the stereo when the light turns green. My heart pounds with the bass of AC/DC as we pull up to another red light.

According to Ava's information, a Subaru Impreza WRX STI rolls up next to us and three guys stare over at the sick ride next to them.

The surprise is evident on their faces when they see a lovely, blonde Ava in her pink dress and mask with a rose on it meeting their gazes. They start to smirk until Ava lifts up her key chain with '55' on one of the keys. One of them swallows and the other two nod in respect.

They smile as if having cool cars is some kind of secret club. The next light up, they turn and we finally reach our destination. Early even thanks to Ava's speedy driving skills.

With much sadness on her part, Ava bids adieu to the car after we drag her away. We make our way across the perfectly maintained grounds to the entrance because Ava didn't trust the valets to touch her friend's car. Yet… something seemed off.

It finally clicked when we were a few feet away from the strong columns standing guard.

"Guys," I hiss then grab the notebook.

'_Why is everyone wearing neutral colors?'_'

We reach the door and a gigantic man with the nametag of 'Earl' holds his hand in front of us when we try to enter.

Phoebe shoves his shoulders, "What the hell 'Earl'?"

Ava immediately grabs Phoebe's shoulders and tugs her backwards into her protection and apologizes profusely.

"Sorry about my friend here, she prepared all night sir," Ava's plastic smile fails to melt even when she whispers in Phoebes ear, "What the heck were you doing you idiot? That guy is at least ten times bigger than you."

Earl's feelings were obviously ruffled yet he takes the high road and responds with a miffed, "Sorry ladies. Black and grey ball. Can't let anyone in who isn't with this year's theme."

I sigh. I knew this was too good to be true.

Dejectedly, we all do the walk of shame back to the car and when we're out of sight, Phoebe surprises us by whispering, "Come on."

Confused, Ava and I exchange worried glances and jog after her, hoisting our skirts high.

We reach a sturdy wooden door and Phoebe crouches down in front of the door knob.

"Phoebe, are you picking that lock?!"

"Yeah, give me a second, I haven't done this in a while."

"What are you picking it with?!"

"Tools, and if you don't be quiet, someone will hear us and come running."

She growls occasionally while Ava and I maintain an uneasy watch. The lock clicks and Phoebe smirks triumphantly. I grab her arm.

"This is a black and grey ball. None of us are wearing black _or_ gray." All of us stand frozen on the threshold of the grand building where another door awaits us.

"Oh chill Emma. Break the rules once and a while. Besides, our last name is Grey." She gestures back and forth between Ava and herself.

Ava edges backwards uneasily, "Phoebes… I agree with Emma on this one."

"Everyone was talking about me anyway Ava. They want a spectacle? They'll get one." With that, Phoebe shoulders out of my grip to stride up to the second door and fling it open right when we catch up.

"Phoebe!" My noiseless yell was too late as she shoves me in front.

Ava stands on my right and Phoebe on my left as we overlook the scene. Strobe lights flash and the crowd below the magnificent staircase pulsates with the heavy beat.

Suddenly, the music ends and the lights are muted and romantic. A golden spotlight flashes down upon us. Ava and Phoebe grin as they step aside to let me bask in the center. Thankfully, the music starts up again as we descend the stairs to join the crowd where the entertainment is happening. Now at the end, the lights return to their darkness.

I recognize 'Cosmic Love' by Florence + the Machine playing as we join the masses. Waiters/dancers fluidly weave by balancing delicate champagne glasses on trays, the men looking sharp in all black suits with black fedoras and the women in movable black dresses.

Huddling close to my familiar friends, I take my phone and type, '_What now?_'

"Now we integrate and socialize." Phoebe's eyes dart around and I realize she's keeping an eye out for my brother as well though; it wasn't like either of us would be successful because that _is_ the point of a masquerade ball. To be unrecognizable.

Determined, Ava shakes her head and laughs at us. She takes our arms and drags us into the writhing mass of bodies.

Soon enough I find myself enjoying the loud music and lights.

Gasping for air, I pluck a champagne glass off one of the trays and happen to glance up at a handsome man in a charcoal suit with a black shirt and a familiar grey tie. His striking blue eyes seek something in my own green eyes. Amused, his lips quirk into a small smirk underneath his silver-grey half face mask and his copper hair glints like a new penny. His dark, right eyebrow arches at my blush.

I gasp nervously and quickly avert my gaze from his searing, seductive stare; I shakily lift my glass of bubbly and swallow the expensive, cold champagne.

"You are so lovely. When you came in, I had to have you," A drunken, harsh male voice accompanied by hot alcoholic breath on my neck shocks me out of my intense attraction to the mysterious stranger. Rough hands clench my biceps, yanking my back uncomfortably into his front.

I struggle which he mistakes for enjoyment.

"You like that don't you?" His arm encircles my waist and arms to pin me down, to keep me from struggling as his hand creeps down my stomach to my lap. Panicking, I try to scream out, only air escaping through my mouth. Was this how I would have my first time? To an asshole in a room full of sweaty, unfamiliar people?

His other hand settles on my heavily corseted breast and I search wildly for someone to help me, frantically hoping to see the mysterious stranger.

Abruptly, his body is ripped from me and the cold air assaults me. I swiftly leap away to catch my breath and grab the nearest object- a candle stick- and prepare myself.

I am met with the Mysterious Stranger as my savior. He's holding his hands up in surrender as he slowly approaches me while my assaulter is lying on the ground behind him, curled up in pain.

"Are you okay?" A deep, smooth voice rumbles out of him. I unsteadily register that it's a sexy, slightly scratchy voice like he had just woken. Calmly, he hooks his fingers under my chin to search my eyes. A memory flickers in the back of my head and I frown when it vanishes until he softly brushes back a loose strand with his pointer finger so as not to startle me.

"What the hell man? We were having a good time!" We snap out of our trance that was sparking with an invisible energy current between the two of us. Snapping away, I brush my hair back when my white knight warns off the drunken kid back with an intimidating glare. I gather my countenance and try to rub some warmth and comfort back into my arms. It was a stupid frat boy.

"Did she know that? Because it didn't look that way to me."

"Leave us alone man-"

My savior notices my discontent when Frat boy goes for me. Blue eyes effortlessly shoves Frat guy on the chest and he stumbles backwards onto some of the shrieking partiers.

"Whatever dude." Frat boy stumbles away and I release a breath of relief.

"Are you alright?" Those incredible blue eyes fringed with spiky, think brown lashes flick back to me.

I open my mouth to speak and forget that I can't.

"What? What's the matter?"

I pat my throat and mime slashing gestures.

"You're mute?"

I shake my head with a small smile at his crinkled, confused brow. I take out a tiny handheld notebook and write, '_I lost my voice."_

He nods with a crooked smile that stops my heart momentarily and tilts his head towards the well-lit grounds outside, "Do you want to go someplace quieter?"

At first, it doesn't register that a guy this gorgeous would still want to talk to me after he rescued me. He takes my silence the wrong way as he scans the room, missing how I immediately nod eagerly.

To my disappointment, he gingerly avoids contact when he hands me a little object, "Here. This is my sister's rape whistle. If it will make you feel more comfortable to be around me. I would never do anything but if we get separated and that guy finds you again…" He trails off threateningly and I am appreciative of his implication and wary of what he would do.

It takes me a second until I'm struck with my own stupidity at his gift. Here I was, jumping at the chance to go anywhere with this guy (heck, I'd be open to _anything_ with this guy), forgetting my slimy assault for a moment. But an instinctual part of me buried deep knew that White Knight wouldn't, _couldn't_ hurt me. Kindness and empathy resided in the depths of those baby blues and I felt better with him than I had the whole night.

We reach the balcony outside and I shiver thankfully in the cold air. Anything was better right now then the muggy, overwhelming humid air that choked me when that guy tried to take me.

"Cold? Here," My personal prince charming shrugs out of his suit jacket and delicately sets it on my bare shoulders.

'_Thank you._' Discreetly when he's rolling up his black sleeves, I bury my nose into his warm collar, smelling the laundry and skin.

"What's your name?"

Teasingly, I grin and scribble, '_What's yours?'_

"Not fair. I asked you first." We walk in step together on the light lit path even though he's a foot or so taller than me.

'_Why do you want to know?_''

"I've never met anyone like you."

I hesitate mid-thought. We fit together too well, like we had known each other in a previous life. The only logical thought I could come up with was that we had a class together. What if he knew me and didn't like me? It wasn't like a guy this amazing would remember me tomorrow. I didn't want this memory to be tarnished if he decided to ditch me in disgust.

Instead of revealing myself, I write, '_If I told you I'd have to kill you type of thing._'

He laughs contagiously, musically and carefree, "I'll find out tonight at eleven thirty when we all unmask. Patience is a virtue."

'_One that I sense you have misplaced._' I can't help the shy smile that breaks out on my face when he laughs in surprise at my boldness.

"Are you sure we just met tonight? You seem to know me awfully well."

'_I'm a good judge of character_.'

"Oh really? What do you get from me?"

'_You'll help out people in need at your own risk. You're brave. The kind of person who is strong willed but only means well. Kind too._' I blush as he reads, afraid that I've revealed too much and scared him away.

"I take back my doubts. I sincerely apologize."

'_I accept your apology._'

"Do you want to play twenty questions?"

'Why?' I eye him suspiciously.

"Honestly? My reasons are completely selfish because I want to know the girl beneath the mask," He absently loosens his tie at his Adam's apple and unbuttons the top button of his shirt. Mesmerized, I stare at the newly exposed skin at his tan, strong throat and watch his lean fingers deftly work at his collar.

'_I suppose…_'

"I didn't think it was possible to write hesitantly and yet you've proved so many of the things I once knew upside down." Chuckling, he shakes his head and kicks a pebble aside with his shoe.

'_Care to expand?_''

"Care to share your identity mystery girl?"

'_Touché_.'

"First question: what is your favorite color?"

'_Really? That's your question?_'

"Yes."

'_Blue. My turn, what is your favorite color?_''

"I was fond of grey until I saw your green eyes."

'_Charmer.'_

"Guilty as charged. Doesn't mean it's not the truth."

Blushing, I stumble in my high heels, '_Next question?_''

"Pizza or salad?"

'_Pizza. Duh. Why would you even ask?_'

"You just eliminated about 75% of the female student body. You are female, right?"

I gently elbow his granite side, '_Of course! Was that one of your questions?_'

"No!"

'_What's the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you?_'

"Oh, foul. I call foul. That question is below the belt." Yelling, he raises his arms like a referee, pretending to blow his whistle.

'_You were the one who wanted to play!'_

"Alright, alright. One time, I had practice and nothing else was clean except for my pink with red heart boxers. I was taking a shower afterwards and the guys took my clothes, only leaving, you guessed it. The boxers. I had to chase the car they were in through the other side of town."

I hold my hand over my mouth to keep myself from laughing too hard.

He rubs the back of his neck abashedly, "yeah, yeah."

'_Sorry._'

Unexpectedly, he pivots and offers his hand, "Would you like to dance?"

'_There's no music._'

I watch in embarrassed glee as he taps away on his phone. Snatching it playfully away from him, slowly so that he has time to stop me which he doesn't, I tap on a song.

Lifehouse's 'You and Me' starts up and he groans.

"Really? Really?"

'_What? They're classic.'_

"Figures."

'_I'm a terrible dancer._'

"I doubt that."

'_You're going to regret this._' I take his hand in my own and settle carefully against him.

His sky blue eyes glint truthfully and I am caught in them, "On the contrary, I think that this was the best choice I've ever made."

A/N: Everyone, welcome! To those of you still with me, thanksAnyways, this chapter took so long to write! Augh! I had to get it just right so it took a few days later than I thought it would. I am now planning to review every other Saturday for this story.

I'll have pics for you guys to see when I have everyone written up and review because it keeps me motivated and that way I know that someone is reading this, which is great.

**Questions? Love it? Hate it? Want to throttle my neck? Let me know in the comments! (Even you guest reviewers!)**

**Thanks everyone, have a great day/night!**


	10. Chapter 10: Keep Up

**Phoebe Grey**

Ava and Emma have disappeared into the throng of dancers. I guess it was up to me to stir up some trouble. I stand on the sidelines of the dance trying to come up with something exciting when I notice some girls giving me dirty looks and I almost stick my tongue out at them. They prissily join the dancers on the floor where the entertainment portion of the evening is starting. Last I saw of Emma, she was on the arm of some handsome guy in a suit and Ava was getting prepped to sing.

'All the Right Moves' by One Republic starts and the dancers, including those stuck up girls, take their place on the dance floor when it clears. I pace around the dance floor as they start stepping in time to the music. An idea flickers in my head and I idly watch with interest for a worthy-

I crash into a guy casually sipping champagne, following Ava with interest in his blue eyes who is waiting by the stairs so that she can go up and sing in a few minutes. I mumble an apology and he grunts in what I take that I'm forgiven.

One dancer in particular catches my eye, he moved with such masculine grace and fluidity that was unusual for men. There was no doubt that he was a _man_ dancing athletically. He stood out in the middle from the group moving in synch, they were all moving as one but he moved with such precision and technique that he caught my eye. Yet, he moved without passion or excitement, a little bit too stiff for my taste. I wanted to liven up the floor, to really give the audience of college kids something to really watch.

He wore a plain black mask tied back with a piece of string. A black fedora sat atop his short, thick black hair. He wore a black, regular server tuxedo that fit well to his muscular body unlike some of the other wealthier dancers that weren't servers in their fancy dresses and expensive suits. Whoever choreographed did a great job by using him as the main attraction so that the other dancers revolved around the two in the middle. His partner was a stunning blonde whose hair gleamed yellow under the lights, her grey dress swishing sassily around her knees. I smile at her tiny, delicate stature as she grins up at him.

A flash of pink on the stage snaps me back from my ogling. Ava boldly takes the microphone and a new song comes on.

The dancers stand on opposite sides of the floor, each gender standing across from each other. I sneak up behind the blonde girl and we make a deal. Ava starts 'Bust your Windows' by Jazmine Sullivan and I know that I have my entrance.

I meet in the middle with the dancer boy I was admiring earlier and confusion flashes over him.

Leaning close against his solid, strong body, I teasingly whisper, "Relax."

Wary of his reaction, I try some new moves that I had been working on at home. He counters my fancy footwork with some of his own.

Our movements are smooth and slow as we twirl about, his hand warm on my lower back. I look up to meet the meadow green eyes that stood out against his pale skin staring intently into my own blue. His suit-clad shoulder blade crisp and broad underneath my fingers.

A new song starts up and I realize with affection that it's 'Valentine's Dance Tango' by The Twins. Now here was a song that I could really put him through the paces with.

Feeling daring now, I surprise him by slipping my feet between his. Surprised, he questions, "What was that?"

"Can't keep up?"

He nods as if in consent then snaps me close when the beat drops with a smug smirk. I smile and nod in acknowledgement. His muscles loosen, relaxing against me as we go back and forth, trying out ideas never been done before with a partner.

We match each other, both of us trying to outdo the other. The crowd fades away as we throw out new moves. I feel the vibrations of his gasping chuckle and I grin as well. We worked well together when we anticipated the movements, like we shared the same brain or knew each other well. It didn't matter that we were surrounded, in this moment it was just the two of us together.

The crescendo of the music climbs and at the very peak, he drops me into a low dip. Those grass green eyes bore holes into me when I snap back up only to be dipped again, lower this time. Finally, I slowly ease back up clutching his hard bicep under my fingers. Our faces are only a breath apart and I notice that he has a nice smile; natural, healthy pink lips over white and even teeth that showcase his incredible jaw.

"That was amazing." He slips his mask off his face and I practically pass out. Not because his face was stunningly gorgeous but because I knew that face almost better than my own. It haunted most of my dreams and nightmares of that night repeating over and over.

All of a sudden, the music has stopped and applause thunders out, I ease out of my distracted state to see that we were the last ones on the dance floor while the crowd looked on. The resounding cheers echo for Ava, Fedora, and me. I crash me out of my Zen.

Gasping, I bow and nod my good-byes to green eyes. Fresh air, I needed fresh air. Ava strides towards me with a frown on her pretty masked features when she sees me fleeing the scene.

"Hey! Wait!"

I ignore my fedora wearing follower as I slip through the crowd to be lost in the night.

A/N: Enjoy my fellow fan fiction readers/writers! Short but sweet!

**Questions? Love it? Hate it? Want to throttle my neck? Let me know in the comments! (Even you guest reviewers!)**

**Thanks everyone, have a great day/night!**


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